Of Chocolate and Bedsheets
by fallenleeves
Summary: Shepard and Zaeed find a staple existence in the necessity to one-up each other, almost always ending in tangled sheets on Shepard's bed. This is but one example. Rated M for lovely details contained herein.


_So I've come to a small (actually rather large), pitfall for Crossfire mostly due to this lovely fic dancing around in my brain imploring me to put it in somewhere.  
Seeing as it (aka this thing), wouldn't go along with the general drift of Crossfire …  
I decided to write it as a oneshot, and am now astounded at the monstrosity it has turned into._

_In anycase. This is a drabble based around a lot of fluff and smexiness, so be prepared.  
I tried to make it er ... hot and amusing but … only you can tell me if I succeeded hahaa.  
Hopefully I'll be returning to writing Crossfire soon now that this has been ousted from my brain._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

"Here's your goddamn chocolate."

Shepard was startled out of her reverie, the swirling blur of statistics and strategies as Zaeed tossed a neatly wrapped package her way. It landed with a thump, skidding across the small space on her desk to bump lightly against the terminal, a ribbon tied in a purely technical manner on top.

She'd been so lost in thought she hadn't heard the elevator door open to her cabin, nor sensed the appealing aura of the stoic and sentimental mercenary that she'd come to like so much. Surprise flickered briefly across her porcelain features at the thought that Edi would let even him up unannounced.

A slim eyebrow rose as she observed him.

"What?" He scoffed, muscled arms crossed against his bronzed chest, the upturn of his jaw just begging her to say something.

Her lips twitched.

"_Oh nothing …"_

She pushed the data pads away from her as she turned towards him.

Zaeed Massani was certainly not what she'd ever expected. When she'd first made his acquaintance, she'd frankly thought he was the role model for a stuck up asshole, a good soldier yes, but still an ass and a bastard to boot.

Sure most of his thoughts centered on how many credits he could make in a given scenario, and he definitely enjoyed shooting things a bit more than usual, but she'd found that he also had some absurdly funny stories to tell and a sense of irony that could confuse the scholarly of hanar (not that they weren't easily confused as is, she just vaguely wondered if his story of being choked by one in battle was a just little _too_ fishy, pun intended of course).

He shifted, the pleasant scent of masculinity and gun powder floating her way.

"For your information - it was damn hard to find, you'd have more luck trying to find krogan testicles on the extranet than this shit."

He said with a look of disgust, nodding toward the box before discolored eyes flickered to the empty fish tank, apparently finding something of appealing interest within as he plainly avoided meeting her amused gaze, her arms crossing as she leaned back in her chair, regarding him.

He continued, and she thought she caught the quick glimmer of an attempted grimace.

"Goddamn salesman had the nerve to ask me what color ribbon I wanted too."

The look of utter offence was priceless, and she had to brutally push down the urge to laugh – the image of the former Blue Suns founder shopping for chocolate let alone being asked what kind of _ribbon_ he wanted really, really pushed the limits of her self restraint.

Instead, she pretended to look incredulous, the curl of her lips and the glitter of her eyes giving her away.

Reaching over, she picked up the box, fingering the red silk of the ribbon as she glanced from him to the box and back.

"So what was the inspiration for red?"

She teased before setting the box down, the color of her eyes swirling with sudden feeling as she stood, the sway of her hips captivating him as she approached, differently hued orbs intertwining with her own as she slipped in front of him, fingertips dancing lightly against the collar of his black shirt. Her lips were at his ear.

"'Cuz I don't see you as the romantic type … _Zaeed_."

She seemingly purred, withdrawing to watch the array of emotions play across the hardened mercenary's features. They'd been doing this for awhile now, but the display still enthralled her as much as it had the very first time their lips had set against one anothers and his rough hands had lain against her skin.

He continuously surprised her.  
Like now.

He remained unmoving, eyes darker than they had been; the muscles in his jaw jumping as he attempted to withhold the urge to reach for her.

"At the time I was imagining what color his brains would look like if I put a bullet through his fucking eye socket." His voice was thicker, more hoarse, but he held out admirably, steadfast against the bubble of humor she could feel filling the space between them. Her eyebrow rose a second time and he snorted, answering the unspoken question.

"No, I didn't."

There was a moment of complete silence as they gazed at one another until Shepard couldn't help it anymore and laughed outright, unable to contain herself as a sheepish expression flickered across Zaeed's grizzled face, the ground he'd held swept out beneath him at the intoxicating sound of her laughter.

"Goddamn should have," he said regretfully, brows knitting in an expression that belied the callous curve of his lips.

She laughed harder, the brush of her quick and flush against him as she kissed him swiftly and withdrew, turning towards her private terminal and the surprisingly well wrapped box.

His eyes followed her as she picked it up, her fingers deftly divesting the parcel of its thick ribbon and wrapping, small pieces floating haphazardly to the floor.

The mercenary felt his stomach clench as he watched her, the elegant profile of nose and lips; the contrast of strength and femininity that defined Shepard as not only an intelligent woman, but a demanding and powerful one as well. Someone he'd grown to respect after she'd shoved the barrel of her gun in his face at Zorya.

He must have a thing for women with guns.  
And guts.

He swallowed thickly behind her, eyes tracing the softened expression as she removed the lid, her features quickly morphing into another one he recognized all too well by now.

His pulse thrummed through his veins as she removed a dark piece, the pull of her eyes and the magnetism of her coquettish smile forcing him to shift again.  
This time in anticipation.

Shepard didn't know how to disappoint.

She set the now bare box back down on her desk on top of the strewn paper, her gaze never forgoing the lingering hold on his as she stalked towards him, her body a landscape of soft curves and ivory skin that promised and beckoned and made Zaeed react in ways he would never dare admit outside this room.

Both of them were prideful.

And both of them liked to be in control.

But there were times when the two blurred together and the rough dual for dominance evaporated into a collaboration that strove towards a place of pure bliss they never spoke about.

It wasn't who they were.

"You _know_ Zaeed …"

He loved how she said his name.

"After _all_ the trouble you went through to get this …"

Her eyes were canted slits, reminding him of a cat about to get into a bowl of milk. The chocolate was beginning to melt in her fingers as she drew close to him, her tongue darting out to wet her full lips.

"I think it'd go to waste if I didn't … _share_."

The piece met her lips and disappeared, followed by an index finger that she cleansed with a swirl of her tongue, all the while retaining the steady hold on him even as he remained, leaning against the bulkheads, eyes raptly drawn to the quick dart of the wet muscle against the smoothness of her lips.

She was directly before him now and he didn't know how she'd gotten there, only that the hand at the nape of his neck had made him pulse thick with blood and a growl to rumble through the strong column of his throat.

Her breath was a whisper against him as she teased him, laughter soft against his skin.

"_Don't you?"_

Their lips met in one, suddenly sizzling connection, his muscled arms dragging her to him with a ragged noise, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed against him. She tasted decadent. Her normal spice and gun smoke essence amplified by the sweet tang of chocolate as their tongues dueled and his hands went to her hips.

Goddamn chocolate.  
He'd never really liked it before.

Her soft laughter echoed within him as she pulled back slightly, the glimmer of her eyes a heady turn on as she gloated in her success.

"_Thought so."_

He growled, practically carrying her down the few steps towards her bed, snagging the box with one hand as he backed her up; determined to wipe the smug smile off her tauntingly alluring features.

"We'll see about that."

She fell back against the sheets, pulling him with her so that he lay over her, the broad planes of his shoulders blocking the view of the distance stars as she buried her hands in his cropped hair. His arms framed her in, the tattooed one nestled in her tangled locks as he set searing kisses along her throat, extricating soft gasps and tightened fists, her legs locked around him.

He ground down against her, their lower halves pressed together even as he kept his weight off her with his bent arms, mouths meeting again and again as teeth clashed and the scent of chocolate stained feverish skin.

In one deft move, Shepard flipped their positions, ignoring the blatantly frustrated growl of the mercenary beneath her as she pulled the slightly heavy box towards her. She flashed the mercenary a coy smile, arching against the hard press of him, eliciting a harsh groan as he sat back against the pillows, eyes dark with desire and speculation.

He went to reach for her, and she cuffed him gently.

"Ah, ah, ah …"

She waggled a finger at him, continuing to ignore the raised eyebrow and the lingering feeling of warm skin, the enticing glimpse of tan stomach that showed through Zaeed's mussed shirt.

"I thought I saw …"

She rummaged through the small parcel, propping it momentarily on the mercenary's built chest, teeth set in her bottom lip.

"_Shepard."_ He warned, question evident in his gruff, aroused voice.

Small strands of hair fell in front of her eyes, and Zaeed resisted the urge to brush them out of the way. He didn't know when they're gotten this comfortable with one another, and had anyone told him several months previous that he'd be lying on Commander Shepard's bed, her atop him, filtering through a box of chocolates _he'd_ bought her he would have laughed. Loud. And then shot the bastard for good measure. Twice.

Somehow she'd gotten under his skin and made him rethink the chaos that had been his life. She could turn him on with only a brush of her hand against his jaw, the slant of her eyes and the hitch of her breath in the midst of a battlefield.

He admired her, and to his chagrin he found they had a lot more in common than he'd like to admit.

Her sound of triumph broke him from his thoughts, and his eyes narrowed. She had something stashed behind her back; eyes alight with a kind of mischievous fire he'd never seen. Before he could make a move, she was off him and setting the box on a nearby side table, her eyes promising and cheeks faintly flushed a dusky rose.

She disappeared up the few steps, a flash of crimson making his heart stutter as she returned.

She didn't think …  
She _couldn't_ think …

Apparently she did._  
Bloody hell._

She overrode his senses as she kissed him senseless, resuming her place on his lap, teeth pulling at his lower lip, her hands sliding under his shirt and along the taut lines of his stomach as she straddled him. He couldn't suppress the possessive growl as he nipped back, one large hand slipping beneath her own shirt to press the small of her back. He could feel himself throbbing, her breasts pressing against him.

The ribbon lay between them, and he'd almost thought she'd forgotten about it until she broke contact, their breaths coming in harsh pants.

"_Zaeed …"_

His hand had fallen to his side, and he had to fight the brutal need to pin her to the bed and cease this taunting. Her lips were already slightly swollen, her chest heaving, but it was the look in her eyes that made him want to ravage her. She could handle it, she _always_ handled it. In fact, they could damn well put dents in the ship's hull if they wanted to. That was how they liked it.

Instead, Massani did nothing, he goddamn didn't need to; he knew where this was going already.

"You knew the, er … _parameters_ when we started this …"

She grinned impishly, voice coy and imploring, obviously pleased at her deviousness as she dragged the nails of one hand down the silky contradiction of his muscled chest, his flesh rippling in involuntary reply. His skin was hot to the touch, the pulse of his arousal apparent through the thick, yet loose fabric of his pants. He wanted it. And he'd found much to his irritation, that he couldn't say no to the damn woman.

"Get on with it then."

He gestured, growling menacingly in an effort to hide the need to swallow thickly. The fire burned brighter, and she leaned down, one hand wrapped in the fabric of the ribbon as the other pushed up his shirt, exposing sculpted abs and lean chest. She kissed him languidly, encouraging him to remove the offending article with only a few growls and rough, stinging bite marks.

Their eyes lingered on each others, a mute exchange taking place before he sat up and she gently set the fabric over his eyes, the soft bluish half-light catching the shadowed movements of muscles flexing. For a moment, his heart beat in panic, reminded of gunshots and blood blinding him before it passed as she leaned forward, her teeth worrying an ear, a wet tongue following suit.

She really was goddamn something.

He felt her hands tremble as she tied the knot loosely behind his head – they'd never done anything like this before, and he knew then that she was anxious he wouldn't agree, let alone go along with it. The thought twisted his heart unfamiliarly.

Finding the side of her face, he cupped it with a battered hand, a thumb brushing against its highest hill as he drew her forward so their lips touched in a gentle kiss, lingering softly.

He'd never deserved this, _her._  
But she insisted, and Zaeed Massani was too goddamn selfish to say no.

She sighed before withdrawing, shifting over his lower half in a way that re-awoke the awareness of their proximity and just how much he goddamn wanted her.  
She had an irritating way of doing that to him.  
Often.

A snapping sound broke the otherwise still atmosphere and he tensed, he didn't know what exactly had _been_ in the box except for the fact that it was supposedly an assortment of different kinds of chocolate. What in holy hell was she _planning_?

He taunted her.

"Shoulda known you had a thing for bondage, Shepard."

His lips curled, arms folding across his battle scarred chest, her ass wiggling more comfortably in his lap as she huffed indignantly.

"It's not _bondage_ Massani, it's _better_," she smirked, voice teasing as he snorted. "It's not like I have you tied up or anything yet either, so shut it." She hmphed admirably before swaying forward, supported by a cool hand on his naked chest, her lips a wet, hot seal on his neck as she murmured, "Not that we can't … try that _later_."

He laughed hoarsely, huskily, "I knew I liked you for a reason, Shepard." A hand ghosted over his, fingers brushing, he barely resisting a shudder as her lips curved into a smile against his pulse as she returned to her original position.

"Now then … where was I? Oh yes …" She shoved at his breastbone and he lay back begrudgingly, waiting for her to make the first move. He could feel her grinning through the gentle hum of her body and knew she was enjoying this far too much.

Hell if he wouldn't make her regret it when it was his turn.

As he lay there, the red ribbon fastened around his head, Shepard couldn't help but inhale at how utterly sexy he was. The muscles of his chest twitched occasionally, and the dark, olive tone of his skin contrasted alluringly against the crimson of the fabric over his eyes and the dark blue of her sheets.

A jagged line of hair ran from the end of his navel to his powerful loins, disappearing beneath the hem of dark cargo pants, body otherwise smooth – a contradiction to what she'd thought she'd find the first time she'd seen him divested of shirt.

Scars from gunshot wounds and an assortment of other injuries painted his body in war stripes, tapering here and there to leave unmarred swathes of tan skin. For such a bastard, he really was easy on the eyes, nine year difference or not.

Reaching around, she withdrew the hidden object from a back pocket, popping the cap as she felt her heart beat wildly. With careful movements, she pressed downward against his arousal while simultaneously drawing a line from his navel to the hollow of his throat with dark, aromatic chocolate syrup.

He hissed an inhale.  
The press of him hotter against her.

Setting the bottle momentarily aside, she dipped her head to his abdomen, her breath whispering against the waistband of his pants before her tongue darted out to gather the beginning line of dark saccharine. His growl encouraged her and her tongue dipped into the small divot, hair brushing sensitive skin as his hands fisted in the sheets to keep from moving.

The effect of the blindfold was intense, touch magnified tenfold at his loss of sight. He could feel her above him, swaying as her lips and tongue followed the line up the sloping valleys of his muscled stomach, teeth occasionally scraping against him.

He'd had no idea things would go this far.  
He'd no idea he'd _ like_ it so much.

Normally, when he came to her room, they would say little until the clawing need for one another died down, roughly and violently clashing as her long legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed her into the cool glass of the normally empty aquarium before they ended, sated, on the tangled sheets of her bed.

He always had bite marks.  
And she seldom without the bruise of fingerprints.

He couldn't say this change didn't affect him though.  
No, the sudden turn of Shepard wanting to damn well _pleasure_ him was enough to make his eyes dilate and his hands twitch with the goddamn need to touch her.

It took all of his flimsy grasp on willpower to remain where he was.  
He'd never let any woman do what she was doing to him now because he goddamn craved control, but Shepard, Shepard was different, she knew just how to sweep it out from under him _and_ make him like it.

Shit.

Her devilish tongue was marking a burning path along his skin, hands wandering along exposed skin, massaging and dancing, a soft hiss of disappoint slipping past rugged lips before he could prevent it as one vanished, eliciting a harsh groan as it finally settled between them, curling around him through the material of his pants.

He growled louder at the soft touch of her laugher at his throat.

Her thumb ran over the throbbing length of him as she bent to kiss him, his focus warring between the two sensations. She tasted sweet, mouth slick from chocolate as she requested entrance to his mouth, pressing against him and making him wish he could see her.

He could easily remove the blindfold, but that was not how this worked.

No, the tango he and Shepard created together only burned brightly to crescendo when they met one anothers incessant demands.  
It continually pushed them to challenge each other, to reach new heights without putting words to what they were doing.

They simply did.  
And _goddamn_ did Shepard do.

She vanished altogether suddenly, her legs hugging his more tightly as she sat up, his perceptions hampered by the thick ribbon tied around his crania.  
He didn't know she'd removed her shirt until she'd lain against him, the sudden contact of skin on skin making him exhale a harsh breath.

"_Damn you_, Shepard."

He hissed, as she slid against him, amused by how she stuck to his sticky skin, the swirling scent of sweet chocolate, her breasts brushing against his rougher skin as she laughed softly.

"Don't try to play tough, you _know_ you like it."

She arched against him to make a point, and he knew that if he could see, she'd be wearing that damn feminine, coy smile she always wore when she knew _just_ what to do to get a reaction out of him.

He felt her hands go to his belt and begin to unloop it, heart quickening. The chime of metal was painfully loud as the belt rasped out of the buckle, falling heavily to the dark sheets, her agile fingers drawing slow lines at the top of his waistband. His fists curled as the button popped, and he felt her slowly, oh so goddamn slowly, pull the zipper down.

He growled harshly.

A hand slipped beneath the separated folds of fabric and he hissed, resisting the urge to move into her. Her fingers were but a whisper, tempering the slowly building inferno as she finally grasped him. Shepard had learned awhile ago that the mercenary seldom wore anything beneath his pants. She'd discovered she liked it that way.

Zaeed groaned, head heavy on the pillow, blood curling in lazy circles in his veins at the pleasurable sensations scuttling through his bloodstream. He shifted, hips rising without a word as she tugged the cargo pants down, heartbeat pulsing obnoxiously loud in his crania as he felt her coat him in goddamn chocolate. Yeah, chocolate. Who's idea was this again?

"_Shepard_…" His words were thick and garbled and cut off as all thought processes met with dead ends and curiously cut short nerve endings as her mouth slid over him, wetly encasing his throbbing desire. She made a sexy noise in her throat that seemed suspiciously like "Mmm…" before she was once again slipping, and sliding, up and down as he groaned louder.

_Goddamn._

She stopped, and he hissed at the lack of sensation before her hands were suddenly at the band of fabric over his eyes, pushing it up and over his head.

Her luminescent eyes were the first thing he saw, twin pools of unimaginable depth that swept him under and promised him nights of saunas made from skin contact and hearts beating in unison. Like hell he was going to fake being upset that she'd cut the charade short early, by this point, he needed to touch her as much as she needed to feel him do so.

Discolored eyes traced the swell of her ivory breasts, the way her features were suffused with the soft glow of exertion, the curve of her damnable lips and glittering eyes. He had her pinned beneath him before he'd been aware he was going to move at all.

"_Zaeed_." She gasped as his mouth fastened around a breast, one hand yanking her wrists almost too harshly over her head as the other slipped impatiently between them, working the buttons of her pants, shoving them down past her hips as soon as they sprung free. He growled around the creamy swell as she made unintelligible noises in the back of her throat as his knee shoved her apart. He wanted to hear her. He wanted to see her come undone for him like she did to him.

A calloused hand shoved the meager undergarment down her thighs to join her pants as he switched to the other breast, tongue gliding hotly over her nipple in rough swirls as he bit and nipped in turn, the hand between her legs stroking the pulsing, wet center in time with the laps, his own arousal pumping thickly in response.

She writhed beneath him, a sharp cry echoing against the ceiling as he thrust a finger suddenly into her, lips curling as he laughed huskily against her, pleased as he stroked her slowly, watching the way her head was thrown back, her eyes awash in sensation as she attempted to retain her hold on his own. It didn't work.

The second finger sent her spinning, and her nails were doing wonders to the flesh of his hand as she tried to free herself. She was panting, sweat forming small pearly beads against her light skin when he finally relinquished her, their mouths meeting again in feverish frenzy as the remainder of their clothes tumbled to the floor, her legs wrapped around him, points of arousal rubbing against one another before he slid into her slick depths with barely a thought.

They groaned in unison, heads bent together, the thick corded muscles of his arms framing her beneath him again as he shook in the effort to remain still until her eyes returned from their faraway place and rejoined him in the collaborative effort that brought them continuously back to one other.

The effort that started _everything._

Her orbs re-focused on him and she inhaled.

"I swear Massani, if you don't move _now_, I'll shoot you myself." She flexed her muscles internally, her sheath tightening around him in an attempt to goad him to move. He could do nothing but comply, his lips curling knowingly against her own as their strokes gained momentum and rough rhythm, punctuated by snarls and red tracks down Zaeed's tanned back as they fought against and with one another to the pinnacle of pleasure.

Her legs moved to wrap around his lower back, his rough hands supporting her silken thighs as she mewled at the new angle, teeth set in her bottom lip in an effort to withhold her cries as he growled, shouldering a leg familiarly, knowing the position would blow apart her small effort to remain quiet. It worked.

She cried out, shuddering as her head fell back and she tightened around him, coaxing him to join her in ascent to the stars above. He thrust a final time, a harsh snarl dragged from his depths as he expelled into her, a final thought bading him to fall to her side and not on top of her. The last thing he saw, were the bright colors of bliss before they slipped into unconscious contentment together, the scent of sweet chocolate against their skin.

They woke some time later to the dim lights of her cabin, bathed in the blue light of the glass tank. Her head was pillowed on his tattooed shoulder, a tan arm slung over her inert body, the sheets half pulled up around them. Zaeed shifted, the sluggish spell of sleep imploring him to return, but knowing Shepard was conscious he resisted.

"You know, Shepard …"

His voice was thick, a gentle rumble as she turned and curled into him tiredly, limbs aching and bite marks stinging pleasantly.

"You're one helluva woman." Her cheek was against the warmth of his chest, listening to the quiet thrum of his heartbeat, inhaling the scent of masculinity and sweet sugar, an appealing difference from the usual sting of heat sink and gun oil. She nudged him in the ribs, "Didn't think chocolate was such a great choice in the beginning, did you?" she grinned against the hollow of his throat, "_Told you it'd be good_."

He snorted, laughing gruffly, discolored orbs flickering down to hers as though he were still unconvinced.  
A predatory smile began to emerge as he followed the curve of her pale arms, the dip of her back as he responded, "I might need a bit more … _convincing_," he nodded toward the box, eyes glittering, "Let's bet I can't have you covered in chocolate by the time the night is over."

Her eyes were canted slits again, teeth set into her bottom lip as she felt him pulse against her, all traces of sleep gone as they eyed the bottle of syrup simultaneously.

"I dare you."

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed! :3_

_*Note: Fixed the vocabulary, hope this is better now!  
_


End file.
